


War is the Trade of Kings

by alkjira



Series: Evergreen [7]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bard Is Having Royal Problems, Established Relationship, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Thorin Is Finally Figuring Out How To Be Passive-Agressive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 08:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3562931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“My oldest daughter has a crush on your Lord. A Dwarven King keeps sending me gold. People won't listen to me when I tell them I shouldn't be King. And you’re back so I can’t be annoyed at any of it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	War is the Trade of Kings

**Author's Note:**

> lol, just a small one  
> There'll be a proper one where Elrond and Bard actually interact, and timeline wise this might actually be in the middle of that, but I just wanted to do something because this pairing still needs all the fic *nods*
> 
> People, go and write fic with this pairing. Don't you see how cute they are?

Bard groaned and sank down on the grass next to where Lindir was sitting and enjoying the sun.  
  
“I don’t want to be King,” the Man declared as he slumped forward, head pillowed on his arms.  
  
Hiding a smile Lindir stroked Bard’s hair, coaxing him to turn and move until his head was resting in Lindir’s lap.   
  
“Are you in a poor mood because people aren't doing as you say when you tell them to stop listening to you?”  
  
“Don’t think I don’t see the irony,” Bard grumbled. “But no, that’s not actually the problem. The _actual_ problem is that I can’t stay annoyed for more than a few moment’s time.”  
  
Lindir frowned briefly. “But- forgive me for saying, but you don’t really _seem_ content at the moment.”  
  
“Ah,” Bard said, sticking one finger up in the air. “But when I’m annoyed my mind reminds me that you are back and then I'm not annoyed any longer. And that bothers me.”  
  
Lindir blinked. “That’s very sweet of you. I’m sorry, but what has this to do with you being King?”  
  
“Because Thorin just sent over a bloody _sceptre_ as a sign of his _gratitude_ for _my_ part in arranging Elrond’s visit to Erebor."  
  
Bard sighed and closed his eyes in apparent pain. “I thought about using it as a door stop but gold is too soft, it'll just get scratched and whoever made it devoted too much time for me to scratch it. And I actually think it might be solid gold because it’s certainly heavy enough. It would make a good door stop, that's all I'm saying."  
  
“Ah,” Lindir said, because that seemed to be as good of a response as any.  
  
“My oldest daughter has a crush on your Lord. A Dwarven king keeps sending me gold. People won't listen to me when I tell them I shouldn't be King. And you’re back so I can’t be annoyed at any of it.”  
  
Lindir bent down and brushed a kiss over Bard’s forehead. “My sincere condolences.”  
  
Bard sighed and reached up to cup the back of Lindir’s neck. “By the Valar, how do you even stand to be around me. I should just shut up and be grateful. Maybe the sceptre would make a good fence post. Or something.” He sighed again and something of the tenseness in his shoulders disappeared. “I am incredibly grateful that you’re back though. Don’t doubt that.”  
  
“I’m happy to be back,” Lindir smiled.  
  
“Hullo!”   
  
Both Lindir and Bard turned to see the two young princes of Erebor standing outside their gate.  
  
“Afternoon,” Fíli said and nodded at them. “Bilbo’s sent us to look for Lord Elrond. Would you happen to know where he is?”  
  
“Sure,” Bard sighed, sitting up. “He went with the children to catch frogs in the pond.”  
  
Fíli and Kíli looked sceptical. “Really?” Kíli asked.  
  
“Really,” Bard said with the tone of someone who wished he wasn't saying it. “Lindir?”  
  
“I believe they were going to observe the insects,” Lindir offered.  
  
“Yeah and last time they did that Tilda came home with a frog,” Bard pointed out.  
  
“Right,” Fíli said. “Could you point us to the pond then? Oh, and before I forget. I think uncle is thinking about having a throne made for you? He was muttering about it earlier anyway.”  
  
“That’s-“ Bard flopped back down on the ground again. “No, that’s enough. This means war. Lindir?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“We’re inviting Bilbo for tea.”

**Author's Note:**

> War is the Trade of Kings - John Dryden


End file.
